xxxholic poems
by robinaker
Summary: I rewrote 3 famous ish poems to have a distinctly xxxHolic flavor. 104 Chapter two: The pen is mightier than the sword, but Watanuki is mightier than both
1. Chapter 1

Hello, there! : ) I decided to rewrite a few famous (ish) poems in a xxxHolic context. They're based off of _The Tiger_, by William Blake,_This is Just to Say_, by William Carlos Williams and _When I Have Fears_, by John Keats.

( As a sidenote, I didn't worry about iambic pentameter or anything like that. They're all free verse.)

**Double Disclaimer:** I don't own xxxHolic or the original poems, though the new ones are mine. ;)

**Warning:** undertones of 104. If you don't know what that means, though, don't worry about it. XD

**x X x**

1.)

**Tiger Tiger**

Like a tiger, I'd guess you are symmetrical

—Not that I find that attractive, mind you—

Just that your curving brows over small, golden eyes

Bring that fact to mind.

Your lazy glance certainly seems reminisce of a jungle cat at rest:

The sharp gaze that only appears idle from afar

And the calm, coiled muscles that I sometimes glimpse

Slicked to your archery uniform.

—Not that I'm looking for them, of course,

Just that the material is translucent at times.

A thing that should be fixed.

But there _are_ moments when I see you wholly

In that fearful frame of mind:

When your brows lower

And your eyes glow with jungle fire.

A fire that frightens the dark.

Is it strange to wish for a tiger?

To wait for your burning light

As a safeguard to chase the dark away?

I might ask you this someday,

But it is very hard to say even now.

So in the meantime, stay close;

I feel safer under your symmetrical gaze.

2.)

**Note From Doumeki**

I have eaten the bento

that you were

making

On the counter

I know it wasn't done

And that

you were saving it

For lunch

You won't forgive me

But it was worth it

Even though it needed

More salt

3.)

**Fear**

I used to know that my life was fleeting

That my constant fear was only an echo,

A reflection of something more final.

I used to know, deep in myself,

That the stars were not for me

And that the shadows

Painting my footsteps

Would catch up soon.

After all, this world was not mine.

But when looking on your face,

When feeling your hand,

How real you are,

I take pause,

And feel fear more deeply than I ever have.

Because now I want what I know I shouldn't,

To exist in a world that has suddenly become mine.

**xXx**

_A/N:_

_TBC? If anyone can think of another poem they want redone this way, let me know. : ) _


	2. Chapter 2

Watanuki looked down at his paper and readjusted it with something close to satisfaction. Two perfect poems. Doubtlessly more than _Doumeki_ had gotten done. He glanced over to where the archer sat across the room, still writing. He made a careful line every now and then, but mostly stared down at the sheet with something close to deliberation.

For the time he took he could be doing calligraphy.

It had started out as a punishment. After Watanuki had dropped her sake while screaming at Doumeki for his table manners Yuuko had drawn the line. The pen was mightier than the sword, anyway, she reasoned, while ushering them out of the kitchen and into one of the back rooms. Unfortunately she was quick to turn the lock once they were shut in. No matter how much Watanuki banged on the door and threatened the safety of her wine cellar she refused to back down. Eventually he had been forced to concede defeat and took to sulking in one of the dusty chairs.

Doumeki had already begun running his fingers over the shelves at this point. He paused on a binding every now and then to pull it off the shelf. Watanuki glanced over the lot. Most of the books were old and leather-bound, but some looked like they had been acquired more recently. He recognized the English authors as some they'd studied in school, though he had to sound out the cryptic Romanji syllable by syllable. A variety of other languages shimmered on the spines. What did Yuuko expect them to do in here, anyway?

As if on cue, the witch's gleeful voice made Watanuki jump. "There's paper and pens in the back." She trilled, from under the door. "How about you try your hand at poetry, _ne?_" She giggled. "Your subject is in the room with you. Play nice~!"

Watanuki scowled and cursed Yuuko's juvenile idea of punishment. But Doumeki had already taken a book down and started reading. The title was English.

Watanuki's lips puckered in annoyance. That self-important jerk! Thinking he couldn't do it in English, eh? If it was a challenge Doumeki wanted, it was a challenge he got! Watanuki stormed over to the shelves and yanked out the first promising English title. With fire in his fingers and a book for reference he pulled out a sheet of paper and began to scribble furiously.

Now, after the fact, Watanuki looked over his two poems once more. He frowned a little. They had turned out rather kinder than he'd been going for, and hit a litter closer to home. But Yuuko _had_ said to play nice and a little embarrassment was better than facing her wrath, anyway. Besides, they were just words; it's not like they _meant_ anything.

He was holding on to that idea like a life raft.

At the thought of his rival, Watanuki's eyes slid sideways. The archer had finished writing, apparently, and was now holding the paper up to look it over. After seemingly assuring that he'd written what he meant to he stood and went back to the shelves, carrying the paper with him as he put the books back where he'd found them. Curiosity burned in Watanuki's gut as he watched those slow, measured movements, and before he could stop himself he had sidled over behind Doumeki. Trying to look inconspicuous, he shelved his own books before sneaking a peek at Doumeki's paper.

He blinked at the contents there. And snarled.

"_You glutton!_" He shrieked, swinging the books in the air like heavy, square, exclamation points. "I _knew_ Mokona didn't eat that bento!"

Doumeki glanced over at him blandly. "It's rude to read over someone's shoulder."

Watanuki's face reddened suddenly and he screeched an exclamation of rage that consisted mostly of consonants and pure volume. He was now scrambling wildly to obtain the offending paper. But, even if it was only by a few centimeters, height had the advantage. Doumeki plugged an ear as he evaded those quick little hands. Only Watanuki could make gibberish sound like profanity, he mused fondly.

It was that very moment Yuuko swooped into the room like a great, smug bird of prey. "Sounds like you're done!" she trilled, snatching up the two pieces of paper en route to the door. Fluidly, she navigated the shelves and swept right back out. The door shut.

It is prudent to note at this point that birds of prey don't usually giggle.

Bewildered, Watanuki looked from the door, to Doumeki, and to the door again. With a growing sense of uneasiness he realized that definitive click he'd heard had been the key turning in the lock.

This time, he really did swear. Doumeki had the strangest urge to smile.


End file.
